


Little Alec's Big Heart

by IvoFanfic



Category: Political RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:35:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23157199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvoFanfic/pseuds/IvoFanfic
Summary: Little Alec has everything an egotistic megalomaniac could ask for. He's the President of Serbia, the absolute ruler of the country and has tools of influencing at least 3 neighbouring countries as well. But is he happy deep inside? Whom does he love, and was he ever loved for who he really is?
Relationships: Milorad Dodik/Aleksandar Vučić, Radovan Karadžić/Aleksandar Vučić
Kudos: 3





	Little Alec's Big Heart

"How about I add a sentence on how we've always supported structured dialogue? Americans love that one." Aleksandar was tired, but the speech wouldn't write itself. Usually it would, but Dragan J. chose this weekend to go to Montenegro for some reason, and Aleksandar couldn't do anything about it.

Milorad shrugged and laughed:"Sure, you know your stuff, Mr President. But how about we go out for a drink? It's not like we're in a hurry."

Aleksandar laughed nervously (how does he mean we're not in a hurry? Is he aware of the historical moment?) and pouted his big lips. "You're not a fool yourself, Mr President! How about I get you something better than a drink? I know just the right thing."

As much as Aleksandar loved a glass of _šljivovica_ , a taste he acquired with Vojislav and Tomislav, he needed a bit of change. Milorad grinned at Aleksandar nervously pushing his glasses up and pouting cutely. Who could say no to him? "Alright, Little Alec! Take me wherever you want, it's Friday, bullet-day! Just don't tell Legija it's the bullet-day today. " Not very funny, but Milorad had this charm of a highlander; his big shovel-like hand slammed Aleksandar's shoulders and the men laughed in an awkward unison.

"Where to, Mr President?" the chauffeur asked, seeing Aleksandar and Milorad walk out of the New Palace in a very good mood; Milorad was even equipped with a bottle of _tomovača_ , the non-official brandy of the New Palace. "You can take the rest of the day off, Žile", Aleksandar exclaimed theatrically, waving his hand like a merciful sovereign giving freedom to a slave, "President Dodik and myself have some important business to finish on the other side. Don't worry about the car, I'll drive it as well as I drive this country." Žile, the chauffeur, was delighted to hear that: it could mean that in two years from now, that car would finally work properly. Of course he didn't say anything except for a "thank you, Mr President. Have a nice evening!" before walking away. "

"And now, off to Pinocchio, Mile!" Batman and Robin of the Serb state and the Serb statelet ran to their Batmobile in a dignified, presidential way.

* * *

Pinocchio was a crêperie in Zemun, one of those places you'd never notice if you don't look for them, a little kiosk squeezed between apartment blocks. You could find a million similar places to it few streets south, in the Valley of the Hungry, but no--it was Pinocchio that rose to international fame. Weirdly enough, the news of Pinocchio still haven't reached Milorad, so he was shocked when Aleksandar asked: "Do you want Radovan 1, or Radovan 2?"

"I've heard of Radovan The Third, but not of the first or the second" Milorad replied, referring to the cult theatrical play Radovan III: while he didn't understand the appeal of it himself, he knew some smart people who really enjoyed making references to it.

"Ah, Radovan the Third! If we were still doing the whole banning thing, I'd ban that show. But no, these are crêpes, it's... look, I used to come here with Radovan and the Duke." "Karadžić and... Šešelj?" "Yes, Duke Šešelj. And we'd eat crêpes here, and then go upstairs in one of the State Security flats and go crazy. You know, the Duke would read his new books, Karadžić would read his new poetry, and I'd... well, I was happy to be there."

"Sounds like a weird _dernek_ , but as long as it works for you... so what's with these two Radovans, then?" Milorad was hungry, and the smell of crêpes was mesmerising. Not as good as a lamb roast, but mesmerising nevertheless.

"After Radovan was betrayed and taken to the Hague, this place started selling Radovan crêpes: it's cranberries, cashews and _nutella_ for 1, and it's our _eurokrem_ instead of imported _nutella_ for 2. As the President of Serbia, I have to eat No. 2, but you're free to choose, Mile."

"I'll have a 2 as well, Drina is no border!" Milorad's smile was wide, even though he wasn't sure what cashews might be. Can't be that bad. "As long as those crêpes don't have Radovan's hair in it, it's great."

As Aleksandar collected the two Radovan 2's from the kiosk, demanding a fiscal receipt as well and accepting no apologies for the broken POS terminal, Milorad was looking at his tall, somewhat twisted frame, clumsy moves, and glasses that just couldn't stop sliding down his nose. "Do you still have the keys of that State Security flat, Little Alek? We could have a cup of coffee upstairs."

Little Alec never had a cup of coffee in his life. "Y... yes, Mile. I do have the keys. You're... um... you're reading my mind."


End file.
